Breakaway: Clan of the Ice Mountains (32 page)

“I feel it, too.” Rika said, her voice soft as the gentle breeze blowing through the pines. “In my dreams, and I thought I was just being silly, but ever since I met you, it’s like voices in my mind, calling me to this place I’ve never been, never seen... I thought it was just... I don’t know what I thought. It frightens me. And it compels me... to follow you...”

Rika looked up at him, her eyes begging him to hear what she could not explain.

“I understand,” Attu said. He smiled at her in the firelight. “I feel it, too.”

Rika sighed and leaned back into him, and he held her as if she might break at his touch.

“We’re going to make it.” Attu knew he spoke to reassure himself as well as Rika. In the glow of the strange dancing firelight, Rika had never seemed more beautiful. He drew her into his arms and held her close in the light of the fire until the wood burned down to embers and she slept, nestled in the fur of his parka.

But Attu couldn’t sleep. He was concerned about their planning making them forget to say the words of burial for Elder Nuanu this night, and it was too late to wake Rika now. She needed her sleep. He hoped waiting one more night would do no harm. Thoughts raced around in Attu’s head as he tried to rest but also remain alert for anything unusual at the same time.
It’s so hard, when I don’t even know what the danger might be until it could be too late.

Attu jumped at a snapping sound coming from behind them. He eased himself away from Rika and walked over to where the packs and other supplies were neatly laid out. The rest of the meat from the animal he’d killed, along with its pelt, was gone. It looked as if something had dragged it away, but Attu couldn’t see any tracks in the small light of the stars and waning moon.
Stupid.
He hadn’t stopped to think there were other animals on land that would steal food from humans.

“See, Elder Nuanu,” Attu whispered, “we need your help more than ever before. We’ll say the words of ritual over you tomorrow, but until then, can you keep us safe anyway?”

Attu searched the perimeter of the camp for any signs of an animal. Nothing.
We needed that hide and meat. I have to be more careful.

Attu spent the rest of the night walking around the edge of the camp, occasionally sitting and dozing in his exhaustion. Would he be able to keep Rika safe from whatever danger lay ahead? Attu knew he had bravely spoken of trusting in the prophecies but now, after not even being able to hold on to the leftovers of his own kill, he wasn’t so sure.

“I
didn’t protect the meat,” Rika said the next morning, as she examined the now empty rock slab where the little hopping animal’s pelt and bit of meat and bones had lain the night before. She crossed her arms in front of her and began to kneel before Attu.

“No, Rika,” Attu said. He grabbed her shoulders, lifting her back up. “Stand up. It’s my fault for not realizing other animals must roam this new land, looking for food.”

“The meat was mine once you gave it to me,” Rika reminded him. “It was my responsibility.” She raised her face to look at him. She seemed determined to take the blame.

“We’ll share the responsibility for the loss of this meat, and...” Attu said, careful of his words now, “every mistake we make in this new world because we are ignorant of this place. We are bonded. We make mistakes together. We learn, together.”

“But the way of our people, the Nuvikuan-” Rika began.

“Is NOT the way of this place,” Attu interrupted. “So, we’ll keep what is good from our people and leave behind the rest. Do you agree?”

“I don’t know the proper way to keep this new fire or how to keep us safe from the evil spirits of this land that do not exist on The Expanse,” Rika whispered. Her face paled.

“I don’t know how to keep us safe, either,” Attu said. “We both have to learn new ways. Together.”

Rika grew thoughtful. “When we speak the words over Elder Nuanu this night, we’ll ask her if this is a good way to proceed. She’ll tell us if she can.”

“Good idea,” Attu said, and they quickly gathered up their belongings and began walking south again.

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A
s they walked, the hills behind the trees became higher and higher. Soon, they were so high Attu had to tip his head back to see the tops. After they’d been walking awhile, the heights of the mountains began to disappear, then reappear, lost in a swirling whiteness, like the tree’s fire, only whiter.
Are those clouds? Are the mountains as high as the clouds?

“What if we miss the rock formation because it’s lost in the whiteness?” Attu asked.

“We both looked ahead while the sky was still clear and saw nothing like a nuknuk spear tip,” Rika answered. “I think we can walk awhile longer, but then we’ll have to wait until we can see the tops.”

“I agree. We can’t risk missing it.”

They kept walking, slower now, avoiding looking too long at the swirling whiteness of the mountain tops, lest it anger the air spirits who dwelled in the clouds.

The rocky beach began narrowing until there was only a strip as wide as a spear throw between the sheer rock cliffs and the sea. Attu had noticed earlier that the Great Sea seemed to rise and lower about twice during the waking hours. It made no sense that water would rise and fall that way, but he began to worry they might come to a place where the water was high and there was no more beach.
What will we do then?

A wind picked up from the unfrozen water as the beach narrowed even further. It blew warm and strong across the sea, well above freezing and buffeting them as they walked. Rika tied her hair back, and they stopped to secure their packs. Both of them wore only their fur pants and Rika her top made of foot wraps, but still they sweated as they walked. Their bodies were used to such cold weather, anything above freezing seemed hot.

“Look at the ice chunks,” Rika said.

“I’ve been watching them.”

Huge ice chunks were floating towards the shore in the wind, and several crashed against the beach ahead. Above them, the air had cleared as soon as the winds began, and the mountain tops showed stark and grey against the blue of the sky above them, with patches of bright white as the sun reflected off the snow near the top.

“We could never climb those,” Rika said.

“We won’t have to. Look!” Attu shouted, above the now almost storm-force wind. “There it is!”

They had rounded a bend in the beach, and off in the distance, the clear outline of the nuknuk spear point’s two prongs jutted up from one of the mountains, as if a giant had carved it. It rose above the mountains around it, each point curved slightly inward, exactly like the people’s spears.

“We can make it by nightfall if we don’t stop again for a rest,” Attu said. He had been plodding along, exhausted from lack of sleep the night before, but now he felt energized. He glanced toward Rika.

“Let’s go,” she said and began the slow lope that would eat up the distance they had yet to travel.

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A
ttu and Rika made it to the foot of the spearhead mountain just as the sun touched the edge of the sea. It was too late to search for the passage through the mountains that evening. The beach had widened, and a thick stand of trees now blocked their view of the base of the rock, which seemed to rise almost vertically from the ground. Attu was anxious to find the passage, but he knew this was a time when the patience of the hunter must prevail. Besides, he was starving. The only fresh meat they’d had in days had been the hopping animal, and it had been small.

Rika began gathering pieces of dead trees, which lay scattered about the beach, and soon she had a fire going. Attu pulled out his fishing gear and quickly caught two large fish. They resembled tooth fish except for their jaws, which were smaller and had only a few teeth. They were fat fish, with much meat on them, and their bellies were the color of the sky in the evening. Attu chanted his thanks to them, and decided he would call them sunset fish. He hoped the fish would like the name.

“The meat is provided,” Attu said as he handed the fish to Rika. “Sunset fish.”

“The meat is most welcome, mighty hunter,” Rika replied. She smiled at his name for the fish, but Attu heard her call them sunset fish as she dribbled a few drops of water into the mouths of each one, to give their spirits a drink before they departed for the Between. He sat by the fire and closed his eyes.

“Wake up, Attu, you need to eat,” Rika said.

Attu jerked awake. He should have been guarding the camp, and instead he’d fallen asleep so soundly he hadn’t heard Rika approach.

She handed him a large portion of the fish, crispy from the fire.

“Good,” he said through a mouthful of the tasty flesh. “Best fish I’ve ever eaten.”

“It is good,” Rika said, and together they devoured almost all of the meat of one fish. Rika had covered the other with some wet green plants she gathered from the shoreline. “I think those will keep it fresh, and we’ll cook it tomorrow and eat it before we go. The rest of this first one I’ll dry over the fire tonight. We can take it with us. They’re rich with fish fat and will give us energy for the journey through the pass.”

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O
nce they were done eating, Rika built the fire up again. They stood, side by side, looking out over the Great Sea, which now, after the wind from earlier, was almost free of ice. Attu marveled at the expanse of dark water, lit by the moon and stars.

“I would never grow tired of watching how it moves,” Rika said. “I’m glad to speak the words of burial over Elder Nuanu here. I think she’ll like it.”

As if in answer, a small swirl of sparks rose up out of the fire as a burning wood piece snapped.

Together, Attu and Rika performed the burial ritual. They didn’t have a body or large stones to place over a grave, so each of them took small wood pieces and threw them on the fire as they took turns speaking the words of protection. Elder Nuanu’s body was gone, but her spirit still needed their words.

The end of the ritual came, the part reserved for the personal things one wished to communicate to a clan member now gone. Since Elder Nuanu was the embodiment of Shuantuan, this part of the ritual needed to be done with extreme care.

“Oh, Elder Nuanu, Shuantuan in human form, may your spirit rest back with the Shuantuan of the Between, until another chooses to be born to our people,” Rika began.

“We are thankful you have chosen to reside with us for a time, and welcome your arrival again in another clan or ours again, whenever you may choose to come to us.” Attu said.

Back and forth they recited, thanking Elder Nuanu for the blessings of allowing a Shuantuan to live amongst Attu’s clan. It was a great honor, and they must express this with both sincerity and longing for another opportunity to have her among them in the future. This was easy, because both had loved Elder Nuanu. They were true in their hearts, which was most important. The spirits knew the thoughts of humans and when they were being deceitful. Still, both of them breathed a sigh of relief as that part of the ritual was spoken without a mistake.

They stood for a while, silent in the darkness, lit by the fire. Rika began to sing. Her voice was high, and Attu swelled with pride at the beauty of it. He hadn’t known his woman had such a pleasing voice. She sang the ancient words of their people, the words to send Elder Nuanu into the spirit world with power, the words to elicit her help when needed, her protection always.

She finished, and it was Attu’s turn. Stripped to the waist, he danced the dance of the hunter, his movements showing his attention to ritual, his calling upon the spirits for a good hunt, his thanking of the game, his understanding that it was Elder Nuanu and the women of the people, now residing in the spirit world, who protected the hunt and brought game to the hunter. The dance was hard, and Attu had only learned the last few moves when they’d buried Taunu. He was glad to be able to dance for Elder Nuanu and was surprised, as he finished his last leap and twirl, to find tears flowing down his face.

Sweating before the heat of the fire, he reached for Rika’s hand. He puffed as he stood, catching his breath.

“Elder Nuanu, we stand bonded before you,” Rika began speaking again.

“Do you want me to ask?” She whispered to Attu, suddenly shy of what they had decided earlier.

“Yes.”

“This is a new place, and we believe we must learn new ways,” Rika continued. “We wish to keep all ritual we need to keep, and learn all new ways we must learn, all new rituals. We will learn some from the one Attu has told me waits for us on the other side of the pass, but the pass is dangerous, and I am afraid to go through it without the proper rituals being performed.”

Rika glanced at Attu. She hadn’t said that before, but Attu nodded his head. He trusted Rika to ask for what she needed, what they both needed.

“Please show us what to do.”

They stood in silence for a long time. Attu began to fall asleep on his feet, but he shook himself awake and tried not to stare at the mesmerizing flames of the fire. So much more entrancing than mere nuknuk lamp flames... he felt heavy somehow, like he couldn’t stand up any longer. He felt his body go limp, realized he was falling, saw Rika reach out for him, heard her cry, then, nothing...

Attu awoke, his head cradled in Rika’s lap, a wet hide on his forehead.

“What happened?” He asked.

“Elder Nuanu spoke through you,” Rika whispered. Her hands were trembling as they stroked the hair away from his face.

“She what?” Attu tried to sit up.

“No, don’t,” Rika said, pushing him back down.

Attu looked up into her eyes. They were filled with tears.

“I was afraid you’d die, like Elder Nuanu,” she said.

“I’m awake. I’m all right.”

His head was pounding and he felt weak, but he wasn’t going to tell Rika that. She looked terrified. “What did she say?” Attu asked, as a shiver traveled the length of his body.
Do I want to know?

“She said she will protect us as we go through the pass, and once we save our clans and travel to the other side of the mountains together, the people there will teach us what we need to know to fulfill our rituals in this new place.”